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<title>(Never) A Dull Moment by obsessedwithstardust</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386659">(Never) A Dull Moment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedwithstardust/pseuds/obsessedwithstardust'>obsessedwithstardust</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sam &amp; Max</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Gen, Kind of shippy, could be taken either way - Freeform, just pure fluff, mostly just max being soft, that poor rat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessedwithstardust/pseuds/obsessedwithstardust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys don't have a case, but that's okay, because even the most chaotic crimefighters need a day off sometimes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Max/Sam (Sam &amp; Max), Sam &amp; Max - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Never) A Dull Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! i had a lot of fun writing this- sam and max is super zany and wordy, so i really enjoy delving into the style, and i hope you enjoy reading! oh, and this is a bit of a different voice/approach from my usual stuff, imo, because i kind of just let go and wrote whatever i wanted to, so concrit is very welcome here!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Max's fingers <em> scritch scritch scritch </em>the top of Sam's head, he idly wonders if anyone else ever has or ever will see his partner like this: his guard fully down, his soft snores intermingling with unconscious sighs of contentment and dog-like whines directed at some unknown entity in his dreamland. Sometimes, his leg will twitch, or his foot will tap rapidly for a minute straight, and Max will have to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from outright giggling like a schoolgirl. He derives no small amount of satisfaction from the knowledge that he is the only living creature- lagomorph or otherwise- to ever know this Sam. </p><p>It happens like this: it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon, and there is not a single case in need of their particular <em> Freelance Touch</em>. Well, that’s a rather eloquent way of putting it. It’s more like The Commissioner has nothing life-threatening to the point of being lawsuit-worthy should it go wrong, and thus the two best animal vigilantes this side of the Mississippi are stuck at home with only the old idiot box as company. </p><p>Sam says that he’s pretty sure this is the end for them- what feels like a life sentence of daytime television- and Max responds with something equally dramatic and slightly less mentally stable, same as always. They decide to try and make the most of it (if you <em> have </em> to do a lazy day, you might as well go all in), grabbing blankets and popcorn and hurling Jimmy Two-Teeth out the window just to get that temptation squared away at the start. They fight over the popcorn and end up spilling it all over the apartment, then call a truce and split the remainder of their popsicles. None of it is new, but it never seems to get old, either.</p><p>They end up huddled together in a position that’s actually quite a reversal of their normal dynamic. Max finds Sam’s head in his lap, his body curled up next to him like a real, good ol’ fashioned <em> dog</em>, and before he knows what to do, he realizes Sam is deader than a doornail to the world. He makes it through about two more <em> Pawn Star </em> sales before he breaks down and brushes a ginger paw across the oversized hound’s head. At the resulting keen, he breaks into a grin and does it again, slightly more intentional, just a little more deliberate, but with enough restraint to preserve plausible deniability should Sam wake up. Sam doesn’t wake up- he simply sighs contentedly, making a small whimpering noise, and Max doesn’t know whether to laugh or faint. </p><p>And now here he’s been, for the last three hours, petting his best friend all the way through a Wendy Williams marathon. He really wishes he could make her stop- the remote is only about five feet away- but reaching for it would risk disrupting Sam and Max is pretty sure he’d rather knaw his own foot off and regurgitate it into Leonard’s mouth. So he stays where he is, allowing himself to hone in on the <em> scritch scritch scritch </em> and the sound of his own personal Clifford cutting logs over the very angry, very incorrect woman screeching through the television. </p><p>Oh. Huh. Wait- is that <em> Myra </em>? </p><p>Max is sure he'd heard she'd been moved to late night programming recently, so he checks the time and <em> holy hot pokered cobras conga-ing on a saltine cracker </em> (he thinks Sam would like that one, and resolves to tell him later), it's already eight pm! Max is suddenly aware that this is quite possibly the longest he's sat still since his (extremely marketable) diaper days, and much like a cartoon character who looks down in mid-air, he is quickly blindsided by a predictable yet overwhelming urge to either jump out a window or clobber something. Ideally, he'd be able to do both simultaneously.</p><p>Max supposes he ought to have expected some sort of karmic kickback- he's seen the whole world fall off-kilter when he manages to sit still for one hour, let alone <em>eight</em>. He also supposes that it's now up to him to set things right again. He's just contemplating pulling out a mallet and using Sam to <em>balance the</em> <em>cosmic scale,</em> if you will, (you break it you buy it, or something, right?) when the office phone beats him to it, shattering the peaceful atmosphere with a loud <em>BRRRRING!</em></p><p>The speed at which Sam proceeds to bolt upright, bellow <em> "I GOT IT! I GOT IT!" </em> and hurl Max out the window in a perfect imitation of a Yankees’ star player leaves the rabbit wondering whether the “cosmic scale” had been off at all. As he peels himself off the rubble-and-slime covered pavement below their window and begins to clamber back up the side of the building like the gremlin he is, he can’t help but grin. Because Sam “<em>GOT IT!” </em> as usual, and maybe he and Sam <em> are </em> the cosmic scale, and maybe everything is just as it should be. Sometimes new, never old, sometimes wild, never dull- yes, he thinks, as he launches himself at Sam from the windowsill- Max and Sam, Sam and Max. A universal constant- perfect balance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! comments and kudos welcome as always!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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